26. Cam
26
CAM
I wasn’t as surprised as the others to see Jakov Kalashnik-Sidorov on my doorstep. Not because I’d known he was coming. More that I fucking knew how bad he and Viktor had missed each other.
Jakov didn’t come in right away, their reunion private. I gave them the sanctuary of my garden, turned off the outside lights, and gave them space, fixing Jakov a plate of food while Ranger peered over my shoulder.
“Needs more sprouts.”
“He likes them?”
“Who cares? I just need Rubi to stop trying to stuff them in my ears.”
I was drunk enough to find that funny. Too funny.
More beer.
Bad idea, but Saint had stolen all the good ones, including keeping Alexei occupied enough that he hadn’t tried to murder Viktor’s brother on sight.
Yet .
My humour hit a roadblock. Did I trust Alexei with my life? With Saint’s?
Without fucking question.
Did I trust him not to whack someone on Christmas Day?
Eh. Probably not. And he had good reason—to him at least—to want to hurt Jakov.
Not hurt him.
Kill him.
Jesusfuck, Saint was a braver man than me.
“Thanks for the present, by the way.”
I glanced at Ranger. He lounged against the counter, drinking a beer, his back to the glass doors in a way that felt deliberate. “I just wanted you to know you have choices that are nothing like how things were done by the Crows.”
“Cam, I knew you were nothing like any of them before I ever met you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ranger set his bottle down. “Why do you think I came here so easily? I seem the type to want new friends?”
“You’re friendlier than you think.”
Ranger grunted. “Whatever. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
My heart did a weird flip. I’d written Ranger the note because I’d known he needed it. Contemplating the possible fall out made me feel like crying, but I didn’t say it. Couldn’t. Cos that was the point.
No pressure, brother. We have you.
Ranger wandered off without counting the sprouts on Jakov’s plate. I slung it into the oven as Juana poked her head in the kitchen.
“Can I come in?”
I frowned before I caught myself. “You don’t have to ask shit like that.”
“I wasn’t sure why he was here.” She slipped into the space. “Jakov, I mean,” she clarified. “If it’s business, or...”
“Girlie, it’s Christmas Day. Anyone wanting to do business with me is going to be disappointed.”
Juana laughed. “How drunk are you?”
“Pretty fucking drunk.” I propped myself against the counter. “Thanks for the painting, by the way. It’s going to haunt me more than the actual fucking cat.”
“The cat who lives in my house?”
“That’s the one.” My gaze strayed to the garden. In the murky light, Jakov was laughing, his arm around Viktor, kissing his temple.
Brothers.
I knew they’d been more to each other in the past, but their bond was as deep as mine and Rubi’s. Deeper, maybe. I’d never fucked Rubi. Lord , no?—
The back door opened. Viktor stepped inside with brighter eyes than I’d seen on him all day. “Where is Saint?”
I inclined my head to the living room, reasonably sure he was still in the building. “Thank him with your eyeballs. He doesn’t like fuss.”
Viktor chuckled, letting me know there were far better ways I could’ve expressed how done Saint was with peopling today, but I knew he understood. And I was grateful for that. Grateful for him .
Jakov lingered, maybe to avoid Alexei. Couldn’t blame him. Then I realised he’d clocked Juana. Goddamn it, I was way too fucking inebriated for surprise visitors.
“Lady Esteban.”
Juana smirked. “ Jaego .”
“You are well?”
“I am. Are you?”
Jakov considered the question, glancing around a kitchen that had survived fifteen hours of Rubi-themed chaos. “This is a nice place to end my day.”
Juana’s expression softened. She eased around the counter and hugged Jakov, whispering something too quiet and too Spanish for me to catch.
Jakov finally grinned, all tanned and handsome and shit, and she slipped away, leaving me alone with a man I’d come to consider a friend.
I opened the fridge. “You want a beer?”
“No, thank you. I have brought a car.”
Just food then. I helped myself to an ill-advised drink of my own and shut the fridge.
With Juana gone, Jakov’s gaze turned absent, as if he already missed Viktor while he was in the living room. Or maybe he was thinking about her.
“I always forget you knew Juana before us. I see it with Viktor and Lili every time they’re around each other, but I never remember the rest of it.”
“That is not a bad thing.” Jakov peered into the oven. “She is my friend’s widow, but I prefer to think of her here.”
“I’m sorry you lost him.”
Raul. Hope’s biological father. Jakov smiled a little. “It is the life, no? For you too.”
“My best friends are all here.”
“Then you are lucky, Cam. And there is no shame in that.”
The oven timer beeped. I blinked. Had I even set it?
Apparently so.
I retrieved Jakov’s dinner and passed it over. He ate at the counter while I shared the loose version of an idea I’d been formulating since Logan and Remy had stopped by a few weeks ago. A plan I’d only shared so far with Alexei, my sister, Nash, and Rubi.
“I like it.” Jakov cleared his plate and moved like family to slide it into the dishwasher. “I am not sure the Dog Crows deserve your vision for them, though.”
“Who they were doesn’t change who we are now.”
“I think you have always been who you are now.”
Ivy barrelled into the kitchen before I could answer, Decoy too slow to catch her. She skidded to a stop in front of Jakov, taken aback by the presence of a stranger. “Who are you?”
“Ives, that’s rude.” Decoy scooped her up. “Come on, we’re going home soon.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Then find some manners, bug.”
He took her out. But she was back a few minutes later, lingering in the doorway, curiosity bright in her eyes, until Folk came to her side and said something Russian to Jakov.
Beside me, Jakov relaxed a little and crouched to Ivy’s level, extending his hand. “I’m Viktor’s brother. Nice to meet you.”
Ivy took his hand, so used to scars and ink she didn’t notice the scorch mark branded on Jakov’s palm. “What’s your name?”
Jakov’s hesitation, and the second glance he shared with Folk, was so brief I could’ve imagined it. Then any lingering tension seemed to leave him, and he smiled. “My name is Jake.”
Ivy was a force of nature even Russian mobsters couldn’t withstand. She fetched a unicorn-themed deck of cards from the living room and corralled Jakov— Jake —into playing snap with her at the table while Folk looked on, the haunted gaze he’d carried all winter long gone, leaving nothing but love-fuelled serenity in its place.
Jake taught Ivy a new game, one Liliana wanted to learn too, and the kitchen filled up, crowded with almost everyone.
Cool hands slid under my clothes and over my flank, leaving goosebumps on my skin. Alexei pressed up behind me, dropping his chin on my shoulder. “This is your dream, no?”
I leaned into him, fighting to keep my eyes open. “Which part?”
“All of it. You did not build a kitchen this big for the cat who no longer lives here.”
“I built it to stop me twatting my own skull with a shovel.”
“At the time, perhaps, but everything we do has deeper meaning, biker boy.”
“Oh yeah? Why did Saint invite Jake for Christmas then? Beyond it being the best present anyone could ever give Viktor?”
“Maybe he grew tired of death.”
I turned to face Alexei, crowding him against the counter. “Tired of you threatening to kill him?”
Jake, not Saint. I didn’t need to explain that to Alexei. Just as well as he kissed the hollow of my throat, overriding my cognitive function. “Tired of me wanting to kill him.”
An important distinction, even to my drunk brain. “Did it work?”
Alexei’s shrug was noncommittal, but the fact that Jake still breathed said more than any words ever could. That he was here to bear witness to the private moment we’d carved out in the corner of my crammed kitchen.
“I love you.”
“You should.” Alexei kissed me again, then drew back to survey the room over my shoulder. “I have been nice all day, to everyone, even you.”
“It wasn’t that hard. You like Christmas.”
“Do I?”
“ Yes .” He could deny it all he wanted, but I knew him better than he’d admit. If he hadn’t wanted to be here today, he’d have been somewhere else.
More laughter came from the table. Viktor had nobbled Jake in whatever game they were playing. Jake punished Rubi who had, of course, inserted himself as if it was perfectly fucking normal to spend our evening with retired Russian gangsters. Because it was normal. Our normal. And we wouldn’t have survived to live this day without them.
Viktor.
Jake.
Alexei.
“Dodger, you’re up.” Rubi shuffled the cards with enough clumsy flare to send them flying.
The kids scattered to pick them up. Jake glanced between Viktor and Rubi. “Dodger? Like the biscuit?”
“If you like.” Rubi dealt a round. “Suppose we’ll have to call you Jammie, then, innit?”
In my arms, even Alexei smiled. Entranced by him, I pulled him closer and shut my eyes. Holding him was so different to holding Saint, but no less perfect. He smelled as good, and the hard planes of his slimmer frame made my blood rush south. Why were there so many people in my goddamn house right now?
Alexei laughed, quiet enough that only I heard. “Sober up, biker boy. When they are gone, the time will come for you to be nice to me .”